The Crimson Beast Swallowed by History
by Haikara
Summary: Surely you have heard the story how the sea monster came to be? Yet there was always another monster among us. This little fic centres on Roberia and how she grew to be a monster and a queen. Sound Horizon story.


I wont write anything at the end of this, so I'll thank you here. Thank you for clicking/reading! All the characters, and most of the details are all Revo's (aka Sound Horizon's), I merely tried to look into the motives. Criticism is encouraged.

Thank you again, enjoy.

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Her greatest joy. What was it?

Her fathers love, or maybe the attention she got from the rest of the world?

They said Roberia Maria Della Firenza's voice was a blessing, for her it was the result of hard work. But no, for the rest of the citizens of Firenza and Naporta, it was a gift, a talent! As if gods had loved this child so much they had given her the voice of an angel. It confused her. Yet, slowly, she started to believe it herself, as she needed to do less and less work to handle her magnificent voice that pleased everyone. She had no reason to improve her abilities, the gift was perfect as it was.

If gods had loved her this much, how about the rest of the world? If she was enough for the gods, what did the people think? They adored her for her _voice_. Would they still adore her if this gift from gods would be taken from her? With every applause she received, she wondered this. They didn't love her, they loved the gods who gave her this voice. They loved the angels, the divine! At least she still had her father's love, at least he loved _her _and not her voice. While the citizens, the whole world, and the capital of Romana... All adored her voice, but not her. And so she never worked to improve her voice again.

Until the day _she_ appeared. Another lady, with a marvelous voice, as if it too was granted by angels, and the gods would smile for her. Not only was it her voice, she was also a beautiful creature in blue, she was younger too! From a lowly backwater town, she surely was blessed with skills. At last, Roberia needed to work hard again. Every day she trained almost to the point her voice was to die out completely, everyday she wanted to surpass her, get past her. It finally made her remember the amount of work she had to do to gain this power, to gain this voice. How much work did _she_ do? Was it her 'gift'? Soon, soon enough, she would have a voice that would rival that voice given by angels and blessed by gods!

Her greatest joy? What was it?

Maybe his father's support, or maybe the joy she gained from her hard work.

But the joy died out, once the new king made his declaration. It had been a contest between these two songstresses before, but now? It was _war_. While everyone had played by the rules in their silly little contest... they both soon learned that war was different. Very, very, different.

It changed Roberia's father. He was as supportive as before, but the longer this war of the two songstresses went on, the less she could feel his love. It was more about results. The joy that they had together, when they had sang some songs in their home, that would not be 'good enough' for her grace anymore... All those memories and songs seemed to have died. ...Maybe she could revive those memories, his love for her, if she only would defeat her, that blue songstress from lowly backwater town, who knew nothing of the world. She must be an idiot. She doesn't deserve it. She wouldn't be a good Queen. She was ugly. That idiot country pumpkin would be crushed, and the tiara would be placed on the head of its rightful owner. She would show her who was truly blessed by gods! If she would freeze her heart completely, she would not be afraid to crush her!

And so Roberia fought, she battled, with her voice as her weapon. The people loved her, the world loved her! But they still loved that girl as well. There was no earthly way of knowing which one of them would soon be their new queen. Roberia wanted to crush that girl herself, to the level that she soon noticed refusing her father's help. But.. as she received that beautiful red necklace... She wasn't sure where it came from, it was among the other gifts and offerings she had received from the world. But it was beautiful, mesmerizing. Her hands shook as she touched it. And once she placed it on her neck... she felt so beautiful. Like a new energy was surging through her. She touched it surface, looked herself in the mirror... She saw the creature, who would be loved by anyone, if only that pathetic excuse of a songstress wasn't there.. People, they were just too blind to see who they were supposed to love! Those idiots! Fools! Imbeciles! If only she had born somewhere else she wouldn't _have to_ become a queen for this stupid country of Itania.

Her greatest joy? What was it?

The moments she spent wondering how she would wipe that girl from this world. This way, the world would know who to adore! That girl would receive a punishment from the gods themselves! ..But with her weak power over politics, no chance came to her. Finally, her father returned to her, making an offer she simply _couldn't_ refuse. To destroy her family, to destroy her... The ultimate punishment! She found herself laughing alone once her father had left her to her chambers. She laughed madly, she laughed and danced! She twirled around and landed herself in front of her mirror. Soon, what would stare back at her from the depths of that glass would be the queen herself.

Weeks went by and the family of Del Viscontie went through horrors she couldn't even imagine. How sad that Roberia wasn't there to witness it, and that dirty blue girl was still on the run.. As she patiently waited for the end of this war, she didn't sing even once. The battle was out of her hands, yet she was _winning it_. And as the news came... she was so happy that she cried. Her goal, she had finally reached it! The tiara would soon be placed on her head! Her make up was messed up because of the sudden flow of joyful tears, so she returned to her mirror to fix it. As she cleaned up the mess, she could notice her hand shake. And as she painted her nails she spilled the colour all over, staining her hands with red. No matter how long she tried to fix it all up, she couldn't get the result she wanted, as if ugliness of her actions could not be hidden any longer. But she smirked and ignored it all, the world loved her now, the world would love her forever, despite her make up. She would never have to fix it herself again.

Yet his father became too busy playing with his new power over politics, and yet her husband hardly even touched her. The world was shouting her name, cheering her, joyful of her victory, yet that all sounded like raging of a crowd in her ears. A confusion took over her when she was asked to sing in one of the royal parties. That's what she was made for, yet she couldn't do it. She declined, in fear that the same ugliness that seemed to stain her skin had taken control over her voice. Was she abandoned by the gods just like this? Why? Again and again she hid herself in her chambers, staring at her mirror. Placing her hand on the necklace that was hanging on her neck, she felt its cold surface again. She raised her hands behind her, and took it off. The day wasn't at its end yet, and still she took it off. It had become heavy, and it had pressed her neck. Even when it hit the table she didn't feel any lighter, and it had pressed ugly chain marks on her skin.

She stared inside the mirror and saw the queen, adored by everyone. But over the three years to her that image had become one of a monster's. And now, behind that monster was a simple shadow, that held its arm high, and the object in its hand shined in the light. She couldn't stare at the monster any longer. Her eyelids felt heavy and they closed, as the shadows steps became clear and came closer. She had created a monster. She was the monster. Her father had left her, her joy had been killed by her own hands. She had never loved her husband, he was only but a trophy she had received for a victory that she didn't even reach with her own hands.

Almost silently, along with the steady steps, Roberia sang. It was a familiar nostalgic tune she had once sang with her father. Something that wasn't 'good enough' for her grace. Singing of joyful parties, wine and liquor and women, she could feel her heart slowly lighten. Yet she knew she would never reach the end of that song.

In the end, what was her greatest joy?

The simple realisation that her heart was still somewhere there, and that the monster would soon be slain.

But to her sorrow, that monster would be replaced by a new one.


End file.
